


Under The Sugar Moon

by xxenjoy



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Eskel (The Witcher), Come as Lube, Dry Sex, Frottage, Geralt is having none of it, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, eskel has a lot of shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: Due to side effects of the trials, Eskel goes into heat during the full moon. When Geralt finds out he’s more than happy to get him through it.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131083
Comments: 5
Kudos: 99





	Under The Sugar Moon

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt **a/b/o**[ over on tumblr](https://witcher-and-his-bard.tumblr.com/post/641587528359641088/for-the-kink-ask-abo-i-love-your-style-and)

After so many years on the path, time sort of ceases to exist. Most Witchers have some sense of time (the seasons continue to pass and their memories keep them from forgetting much) but Eskel has always been particularly fastidious about paying attention to the time of year, the time of the month. Unlike most of his brothers, he can tell you exactly how far away they are from the next full moon at any given time. When they were kids, it was an amusing trick for the other boys; they would all make guesses and whoever was the closest to Eskel's prediction would be able to hand off his chores to someone else. For them, it was a game, but for Eskel it was a necessity, knowing when the next full moon would come so he could seclude himself for the night. 

No one else knows what happens to him during a full moon - if they did, they'd probably suspect some sort of lycanthropy and who knows what would happen to him then. But it's not like that. Eskel doesn't transform in the light of the full moon (although some days, he would prefer that), but suffers through unending, unquenchable lust. By the time most of the other boys were only starting to discover sexuality, Eskel had already been sneaking out of the keep at night to keep his secret from being found out. 

And he got very good at it. For years, he managed to keep his secret and his sneaking around secret even from his closest friends. Which is why, a few weeks before they're supposed to be setting out on their own for the first time, Eskel is relieved. He no longer has to worry about lying or sneaking around or keeping things from his peers and advisors. Just a few more weeks and he'll be free. But, like everything in his life so far, it's not as easy as that. Two nights before he's due to leave Kaer Morhen, the moon is full. 

Eskel works himself up to it, preparing his escape in advance as he does more frequently these days. The once-clumsy boys who grew up with are now strong men with proper control of their senses and escaping is not so simple as it once was. But he makes it out of the keep without any trouble. He's had to use axii on another boy more than once and he feels terrible about it even now, so getting out clean is the most favourable option. But once he gets off the grounds, he has a bigger problem facing him. 

Over the years, Eskel has tried _everything_. At first, he tried ignoring it all night, but when that proved maddening, he'd give in to every whim but that was exhausting and painful after a couple of hours. His newest method seems to work the best: staving it off for as long as possible and then, once he's made himself come, sleep for as long as he can manage before the need creeps up on him again. It doesn't always work and a lot of the time, his own hand isn't enough to satisfy the need, but it's better than his other options. 

Tonight is bad. Bad enough that he doesn't think he'll make it to the watchtower before giving in, but he grits his teeth and pushes forward. The longer he holds out, the better the night will be for him. 

He makes it up to the watchtower and settles himself on the ground, leaning back against the wall with his hands clenched at his sides. His cock is already hard and aching, pressed firmly against the front of his trousers, and he refuses to look down, but he can feel the wet patch forming in the cloth. 

Even after all these years, it's embarrassing to be like this. His entire life he's been trained to have control over every aspect of his body and yet, he still can't control _this_. His only solace is that no one has ever found out about it and he doesn't have to bear the humiliation of anyone seeing him like this. 

Then, of course, that too fails. He doesn't hear the footfalls until it's too late to hide. 

Eskel's breath catches and he's so overcome with terror that for a moment, he's totally numb to the need coursing through him. All he has time to do is pull his knees up before he catches a scent on the breeze. 

_Fuck. Geralt. Why does it have to be Geralt?_

Of all the pupils and all the mentors in the keep, the very last person he wants to know about this is Geralt. As long as Eskel can remember, he's been closer to Geralt than anyone; they were friends from the day they arrived, but Eskel had grown overly fond of Geralt over the years. If there was ever anyone he might tell about his situation, it's Geralt, but Eskel's feelings for the other man get in the way every time. He doesn't anticipate anything ever happening between them, but he knows Geralt finding out would ensure nothing ever does. 

A million things run through his head at once, but he knows it's already too late. If Geralt followed his scent, there's no way he could avoid noticing the arousal wound through it and Eskel knows he smells different during the moon than he does any other time. He should tell Geralt to leave him alone, tell him to turn back before he gets too close, but his voice isn't cooperating. 

Feeling lost and hopeless, Eskel drops his head to his knees and grits his teeth. Having an audience isn't going to deter the feelings and he's hit by an overwhelming wave of humiliation as he imagines having to get through this while someone _watches_. Realistically, he knows Geralt wouldn't, that he would give him space, but he also knows that if Geralt knows something is wrong, he won't just leave him alone. Normally, it's one of the things he loves most about Geralt, his absolute devotion and protection of those he cares about, but tonight it's not working in Eskel's favour. 

He's so caught up in pushing back the arousal, that Eskel doesn't realize when Geralt is sitting right in front of him. He's speaking, but Eskel can't understand through the blood rushing in his ears. It's not until Geralt touches him that Eskel's focus snaps into place and it takes all his strength to keep from shoving Geralt back against the ground. 

"Go away," he rumbles and Geralt does exactly the opposite. 

"What's wrong?"

"Geralt, just _go_." The ache is getting stronger now and Eskel is sorely tempted to rub himself off through his trousers. He thinks he could do it without Geralt catching on too quickly, but the longer he thinks about it, the stronger the feeling gets and he chokes on a moan as he shifts and his trousers rub against his sensitive cock. It's almost enough for him to come just like that, but he manages to hold back, some horrible combination of shame and disgust holding him back. 

"Eskel-"

"Go," he says but his voice shakes and it's so hard to keep himself steady. 

The thought of asking Geralt for help worms his way into his mind and he's so overwhelmed fighting against that and the urge to touch and the scalding humiliation burning up the back of his neck. Before Eskel can stop him, Geralt crawls forward, kneeling before Eskel.

"Tell me what you need," he breathes and Eskel is _so tired_ of fighting. He whimpers and he doesn't want to ask for help, doesn't want to show weakness in front of another witcher, but he whines out a desperate _please_ and Geralt doesn't hesitate. 

"Let's get you out of this," he whispers, leaning in to tug Eskel's shirt up over his head. Immediately, the cold stone feels good against his back, but then Geralt is pressing between his legs and another rush of heat sears through him. "Come on, Es, let me get you out of these clothes." 

Reluctantly, Eskel slips down, allowing Geralt the space he needs to tug his trousers down over his hips. He hisses as the cold air hits his cock, but there's a spike of arousal from Geralt and everything else is forgotten. Eskel reaches for him instinctively and Geralt settles next to him, pressing up against his side. 

"Can I?" Geralt asks and when Eskel nods, he slides a hand down his stomach. Eskel is already thrusting up to meet him before Geralt even touches his cock. He hates himself for it, but Geralt just hums softly, winding his fingers around the base of him like it’s nothing. 

Geralt barely even has to do anything because Eskel can't keep himself from thrusting up against him, grinding into the tunnel of Geralt's fist. He comes too quickly, spilling all over Geralt's hand and his own stomach and he's barely over the rush of his orgasm before the shame sets in again. 

"Hey," Geralt huffs, "don't you dare." He presses right up against his side, pressing his nose into Eskel's neck. "You always helped me," he whispers, "let me help you." 

Eskel's erection hasn't subsided in the slightest and he nearly cries out when Geralt touches him again. Geralt is slow and gentle and Eskel has to hold back from fucking up against him hard. It does feel better than on his own hand, but it's still not going to get him through the night; already, even the stroke of Geralt's hand is feeling less and less satisfying. 

Eskel squirms under Geralt's touch, desperate for a firmer touch, for something _more_ but he fights against it. He knows he has to slow this down because he knows how he inevitably winds up and he can't ask Geralt for that and he doesn't want Geralt seeing him do it to himself. He gets a hand around Geralt's wrist, trying to keep him from moving too quickly and when Geralt shifts, his cock presses into Eskel's hip and he's _hard_. Geralt squeezes around the head of Eskel's cock reflexively and that's all it takes to push Eskel over the edge again. 

He throws an arm over his face, but when he comes down this time, Geralt moves his arm, looking down at him. His eyes are dark and Eskel can smell the lust rolling off of him now, but Eskel knows well enough that it's just a natural reaction. Geralt wouldn't want him in any other situation. But Geralt's chest is heaving and he looks so fucking nervous, looking anywhere but at Eskel's eyes. 

"Can I-" he whispers, "I just- could I... kiss you?"

"Why?"

Geralt looks taken aback. "Because I... want to?" 

Eskel opens his mouth to ask why again, but Geralt shifts to straddle his hips and he's struck dumb. He nods and Geralt leans down over him, barely brushing his lips against Eskel's before kissing him properly. Immediately, Eskel draws him closer, wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck and pulling him down to him. He doesn't have the strength to hold back, pushing his tongue between Geralt's lips and rocking up against him. If Geralt is hesitant, he doesn't show it. 

He presses against him, rolling his hips in low, languid motions and while Eskel is currently in favour of quick, harsh movements, he finds himself lost in the movement of Geralt's body against his own. He arches off the ground, grasps at Geralt's neck and shoulders, moaning desperately into his mouth. He's never had someone with him for this, never even considered finding his release in someone else and for the first time in _years_ it feels _good_. 

Geralt shoves a hand between them without breaking the kiss, shoving at his trousers until he can pull his own cock free. He shifts to align himself with Eskel, using his hand as a guide to keep them pressed together as he rocks his hips a little harder. His breath is hot against Eskel's skin and the little gasps and moans that drop from his lips are almost enough to make Eskel think he could want this too. 

Then, as Eskel is arching against him, Geralt's thumb slips up under the head of his cock and Eskel comes with a shout, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to Geralt's. He's only vaguely aware of Geralt grunting and then he collapses onto his chest.

Geralt has a hand wrapped around his side, brushing his thumb against Eskel's skin and it's the only thing that keeps him from getting up and running away immediately. Because a friendly hand is one thing but this was... more. He can hear his own pulse rise and he tries to slow it, evidently not quickly enough. Geralt nuzzles under his jaw, shushing him. 

"'M not gonna go anywhere," he mumbles. "You didn't ever leave me." 

Geralt shifts to the side and curls up around Eskel, running a soothing hand up his leg. It proves more than Eskel's hypersensitive body can handle and it's only a few minutes before he's hard again. He holds out as long as he can, focusing on Geralt's soft touches instead of the want coursing through him, but it's not enough to keep it at bay. 

He smells more than feels when his cock leaks against his skin and he groans knowing that Geralt can smell it too. 

" _Fuck_ ," Geralt mumbles, "it really is bad, isn't it?" 

Eskel just groans in response but Geralt is already moving, rising to his knees again and kissing Eskel's chest. He's disgusting; sweaty and covered in dried come, but Geralt seems unconcerned as he makes his way down to the smear of pre-come above Eskel’s hip. He wraps his lips around the head of Eskel's cock and that's the end of coherent thought. All Eskel can even think about is the wet heat of Geralt's mouth around him, sucking hard and sinking down on him. He runs his fingers through Geralt's hair, gripping and tugging when his cock hits the back of Geralt's throat. 

He comes startlingly quickly like this and Geralt follows almost immediately, jerking himself between Eskel's thighs.

The next hour passes in much the same way. Eskel holds out as long as he possibly can, but Geralt catches it every time. He licks and sucks and strokes and even gets his fingers into him and it's _good_. It's the best he's ever had if he's honest, but inevitably, it's not good _enough_. He's not oblivious to his body's needs, but usually fingering himself is enough to get him through the remainder of the night. 

Geralt has three fingers in him and his mouth around Eskel's cock when he sighs and withdraws, sitting back up and running his hands up Eskel's thighs. 

"It's not helping anymore, is it?" 

Eskel groans and shakes his head, dropping it back against the ground. He stares up at the crumbled floor above him and wonders if he can hold out till morning, but Geralt is already moving. He shifts up close and he's naked now, bare skin pressed right against Eskel's and it's overwhelming and not enough. He can feel Geralt's cock against his hip and he's still hard, but Eskel doesn't have the energy to help him out. He shuts his eyes with a groan and he's contemplating sending Geralt back to the keep rather than face the alternative, but Geralt interrupts his thoughts with a kiss to his hip. 

"It's okay," he whispers, "we'll figure it out."

Eskel knows they won't. He knows at this point there are only two things that will get them through the remaining hour or so until dawn. He's never tried fucking someone or letting someone fuck him, but he knows nothing else is going to work. If Geralt can't get him off, it's the only option. He can't say it though, so he just grumbles and shifts to try and get comfortable. 

"I could... if you want you could fuck me?" Geralt offers.

Eskel lets out a helpless laugh. He lifts himself as well as he can manage and offers a hopeless grin at Geralt. 

"I'm exhausted," he huffs, "I can barely sit up." It's not strictly a _no_ , but it's not a yes either and he waits for Geralt's response. Geralt doesn't say anything, but he crawls up over him so he's straddling Eskel's hips. 

"What if you didn't have to do anything?" Geralt takes himself in hand, stroking his cock where Eskel can't help but watch him. His own cock twitches with genuine arousal and Geralt rocks back against him. 

" _Geralt_ ," Eskel chokes and Geralt just leans down over him, nuzzling into his neck. 

"It's okay," he whispers, "I want to. I- I've thought about it before." _That_ certainly catches Eskel's attention. 

"What?"

"I-" Geralt ducks his head and Eskel can see just the fainted dusting of red across his cheeks. "I think about you sometimes."

"Not like this, though."

"No," Geralt admits, "but I thought about touching you."

"Yeah?" Eskel encourages. His cock twitches again and he wants to reach down and stroke himself off before the feeling goes away again, but he has a better idea. "Tell me." His hands slip up to Geralt's hips, pressing him back onto his cock and he groans as the head catches against Geralt's rim. 

" _Oh_ ," Geralt groans and he sits back a little harder. It doesn't make any sense to fuck him; Eskel's already prepped and ready and he's going to ache tomorrow as it is. They don't have oil and he doesn't want to hurt him, but Geralt seems determined. 

"I touched myself," Geralt breathes, "thinking about you. Imagining your hands on me, holding me, pressing me into-" he cuts himself off and his eyes snap up to Eskel's, but his scent flares hot and lusty. _Pressing me into the bed_. And _gods_ , Eskel thinks, they may only have two days left, but he'll be damned if he doesn't find time to fuck Geralt into whatever surface he can find after this. Now, though, is not the time. 

"I will," he promises, "I'll fuck you anywhere, any way you want me to, but you gotta do something for me first."

“Anything.”

“I need you to fuck me.”

"Eskel-"

"We don't have any oil and you already did such a damned good job of making sure I'm ready." Geralt preens at the praise and Eskel gets a hand around the back of his neck, tugging him into a slow kiss. 

His whole body aches for release, but he lets himself linger, brutally aware of the time they've wasted. Geralt is the one to draw back, shifting to sit between Eskel's legs. Just the heat of his body, the way Geralt pushes his thighs apart sends shivers up his spine. That's a good sign, he thinks. 

Geralt slips a finger inside him, then two, ensuring he's ready. Eskel appreciates the effort but it doesn't matter much either way. Geralt slicks his cock with the come still cooling on Eskel's chest and it's not ideal, but it makes some difference as he pushes into him. Geralt is cautious, but he keeps himself steady and the first proper thrust has Eskel's entire body lighting up. 

_Oh_ , this is what he's been missing all these years. The painful ache fades until he's left with nothing but his own want for Geralt, pure and _real_. He's still exhausted, but he musters up the strength to haul Geralt down against him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathes, "fuck, Geralt, you feel-" he's cut off by his own moan as Geralt thrusts sharply into him and Eskel's limbs shake. He doesn't try to talk again, but when Geralt kisses him, soft and sweet, despite the pistoning of his hips, Eskel thinks he understands anyway. 

This time takes longer, but when he comes, it's with one hand around his cock and the other over Geralt's shoulder. _Please_ , he hears and it takes a moment to realize it came from him. He doesn't plead, doesn't ask for anything during sex, but then again, nothing about this is normal. Geralt follows moments later, collapsing onto his chest and pressing soft, exhausted kisses along his collar bone. For the first time possibly ever, Eskel feels satisfied after a full moon. 

Dawn finds them huddled together amongst soiled clothes and loose bits of stone. Geralt is lying almost entirely on top of him, but Eskel is warm and content. He doesn't dare move, lest his muscles scream of overuse, but there's no need to move anyway; he's through it for another cycle and, he suspects, the future will be easier. He runs his fingers through Geralt's hair with a soft smile on his face and watches in silence as the sun climbs up over the mountains.


End file.
